For the Clan
by Aliinai Rajayli
Summary: AU. Trunks, a wounded general and prince, is gravely injured. Just when he thinks it is the end, the kindness of stranger's saves him. Healed and feeling anew, he returns to his life, wondering if he will ever be able to repay the mysterious woman that saved him. Romeo & Juliet -esq.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, just merely the plot. SEVERE AU. Kind of a mash of fantasy and historical events. Not set in one particular region or culture, a bit of a blend of everything.

For the Clan

Chapter One

Holding the reins with his left hand, Trunks snaked his right up to his shoulder to feel the arrow shaft embedded between the plants of armor. His vision was clouding from a combination of sweat and blood as he pushed his heels into the horse, urging her to move faster.

Too many of his men were lost in the ambush, he had barely gotten away but he was losing hope that he could survive. An arrow rested in his left shoulder and he had felt a bolt hit his side below his right rib cage. Thankfully the bolt had gone straight through, that would be treatable if he could find help soon. He knew he had other wounds but had been unable to access from where.

His breath was billowing in front of his face from the cold winter air and further clouded his vision. Just how many days had he been riding? He couldn't remember. After the battle in the Karyo Woods, he and his men were to return to West City where they would receive their dispatch orders and return to their respectable clans. They weren't expecting to be ambushed on the Goldroad. Trunks berated himself, "_I should have sent out more scouts, this could of all have been avoided_!"

Trunks coughed, the action rattling his already weak body. Up ahead he could see a faint glow of firelight, he just needed to make it and hope that the travelers were friendly. But because of the Great War, the roads were never safe and everyone was weary of each other. Alliances were paper thin and life was no longer valued. Trunks felt himself slipping, his fingers wafting against the leather reins as they blew away from his grasp. His body slumped as he landed in the soft powdery snow, his blood staining it a crimson red. All he could hope was that the lights coming towards him could show him the mercy of a quick death.

Death would be a far better friend than this pain.

-XoXoXoX-

It was warm. The unmistakable, heavenly feel of a fire against his checks was undeniable. The sweet blessed warmth was heavy on his body. Trunks attempted to move but felt a restriction not only from his body denying the action, but from the amount of blankets tucked around his body.

A searing pain in his side caused him to groan and alerted the other occupants in the room to his consciousness.

"Shhh, don't try to move." It was a woman's voice. Trunks could barely lift his heavy eyelids to see who was addressing him. Trunks's head was slightly lifted and he felt something cold press against his lips. "This is dorium root milk; it will ease your pain. Drink it and rest." He felt the cold, chalky liquid at his lips and opened his mouth to allow it to enter. He could care less if the milk was poisoned. Why would his rescuer save him only to kill him? Besides, if the poison was mixed with the milk, well he could think of more horrible ways to die than being lulled to sleep by medicine.

There was no fighting his body to stay awake; it was clearly demanding rest and it was something that Trunks was willing to get…

Trunks began to stir as he arose from his dreamless state. The room was still warm, but he was only covered with a thin blanket. He had a feeling that he had been moved; he could vaguely remember being jostled on a cart and assumed he was in his rescuer's home.

"I see you're awake." Trunks turned to see a man sitting on a stool in the room. He held a broadsword in his hand, sharpening the blade with a whetstone. The man's dark ebony hair shone in the firelight as the stone sang across the blade. The stranger turned his onyx eyes to look at the ill man and Trunks guessed that he was no older than him, if not the same age.

"Thank you," Trunks croaked out, his voice cracking from the exertion. The stranger reached around behind himself to grab his wineskin and threw it at the bed, landing in Trunks's lap. Trunks opened the cap and drank a few tentative sips of the red wine.

"You shouldn't think me. Thank my sister once she returns. I would have left you."

Trunks nodded in understanding knowing that if this stranger had had his way, he would have had a sword in his heart instead.

The man stood and crossed the room and held out his hand in the gesture of a handshake. "My name's Goten."

Trunks clasped his hand into Goten's and could feel the strength of the man in front of him. "Trunks." Trunks only received a grunt in acknowledgement.

Goten gathered his sword and turned to Trunks, "You better get some more rest." He left and when he did the roaring of a winter storm hit Trunks's ears as the chilly fingers crept in to leave a touch of cold in the room.

Trunks must have dozed off for he awoke again to the door sliding open. This time a woman with long dark hair entered, Trunks assumed it was Goten's sister. She was carrying a tray and sat it down next to him.

"Goten told me you were awake," Her voice was soft and gentle. She looked at Trunks with dark eyes laced with flecks of blue. "How are you feeling?"

Trunks eased himself up into a propped position, "Sore."

The woman nodded in understanding as she removed the lids off a few of the bowls. She held a cup to him, which he gladly took. "Something light to start with; it's a broth made with roots. It might taste a little bitter but it does have healing properties."

Trunks sniffed at it, noting that it had a bit of a woodsy smell. He placed the bowl to his lips and sipped, feeling the instant warmth reaching to his cold toes. His stomach churned slightly at the bitter taste. "How long was I out for?"

"Almost a month now; there were moments when we could get you to respond to us and during those times we could get you to take some broth, but you haven't really eaten anything since you've been with us. We shall see how you do with this tonight and if stays down I'll get you some bread to eat."

"Thank you," Trunks handed her the bowl back, which she placed back on the tray and returned the lid.

"I need to change your bandages." She began to remove the blankets, exposing his bare chest. Slowly, so as not to hurt or startle him, she unwrapped the linen, noticing that there was no odor anymore. A good sign since it indication that the infection was gone.

"My name is Trunks."

She hummed, "Goten told me. I'm Pan."

Pan, it was short, simple and sweet. Trunks's blue eyes watched the small, beautiful woman as she worked.

Pan's fingers traced over an old scar of his, "I take it this isn't your first time being injured?"

Trunk shook his head, "Not in the least. I'm a general…"

She quickly clamped her hand over his mouth, "Say no more. Here we won't ask questions but if you are for the wrong side you could have just signed your death warrant."

Trunks mentally kicked at himself, he knew better than to spout out information like that; but he knew from the way his heart was racing from ever small touch from Pan that he was acting like nothing more than a love-struck boy.

Pan took a rag boiled in wine and sponged at the wound. "I removed the stiches last week, the skin is healing nicely." She put the rag on the tray and opened another bowl. Using her fingers, she dipped them into the bowl and smeared some of the slave on his wound, using a generous amount. Once she was done, she wiped her hands and grabbed a fresh roll of linen and began to rewrap his ribs. "I have Goten making you a crutch. I don't want you walking just yet. Your broken ribs have healed but they are still bruised." She moved behind him and began to wrap his shoulder wound, causing Trunks to hiss.

"I had to dig the arrowhead out. You ran a fever for a few days and I had feared you wouldn't make it. You did though."

Trunks bit his lip as she pressed a fresh boiled rag to his shoulder, "I think you, my lady. I would be dead if it wasn't for you."

"You were lucky it was us that found you. Days before hand we were traveling and stumbled upon a group of murdered people. Their bodies had been stripped of everything. In honesty, we might have missed you if we hadn't of stopped to bury the dead. It put us behind a few days. I'm glad we found you though." She whispered the last part as she rewrapped the wound. She held up a glass, "I brought dorium root milk if you would like some."

"No, thank you. Although I have pain, I prefer for my mind to be unclouded."

Pan nodded, "I understand. I have to return to my duties. Trunks please get some rest and I will check on you in the morning."

"Good night, my lady." He bowed his head in a parting gesture as she gathered up her supplies and exited the room. He noticed that the winter storm had passed and the sky outside was calm. He settled back down onto his mat, pulling the blankets up around himself, and drifted slowly back to sleep.

-XoXoXoX-

Weeks passed and Trunks had gotten stronger and he no longer had to use the crutch. Winter was slowly melting away and the first sprigs of summer were popping out of the snow. Trunks had spent many of his days with Pan as company, oftentimes they were accompanied by the shadow of her overprotective brother, Goten. Trunks didn't mind though as he was finding himself in love with this beautiful woman.

They were in some sort of encampment hidden in the mountains from what he could tell. Trunks couldn't really call it an encampment though, as there were houses built and a bathing house near the hot spring. Pan told him that they moved a lot and this was one of their homes. He was dreading the next few days as people were rushing around and packing items onto carts. Pan told him that it was time for them to move again, and tonight her older brothers had deemed that he was well enough to leave.

Trunks and Pan spent their last dinner together in his room, a spread of fish, bread, olives, and rice in front of them. Pan had brought him a pack of food, a blanket roll, and a few medical supplies in case he had needed them. Their meal was silent, neither wanting to ruin the moment. Trunks looked up at her. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a neat bun with a few curly tendrils framing her face. Her cheeks were slightly chapped from the winter wind but the redness only added to her beauty. There was a brisk knock at the door before the screen slid back and Goten entered.

"We're leaving in an hour." Trunks nodded at him, knowing that he would need to say his goodbyes soon.

Goten took a place at the table and began to eat with them. All in all, Goten didn't mind the man being in their village. But his presence was a risk to his family and he couldn't allow it. Gohan, their elder brother and leader of their clan, had decided that it would be best if Trunks were to leave them before they moved and since it was a full moon tonight, it was perfect for travel.

-XoXoXoX-

Trunks cinched the bedroll to his saddle and patted his mare. He was very thankful to the villagers for caring for her well as she had been a gift to him from his parents many years ago.

Trunks turned to Pan who stood staring at him with large eyes as he prepared his horse to leave. He walked up to her, noticing how short she was to him, and how small and delicate she appeared. Trunks gathered her hands into his, her fingers entwining into his, as he held them up and kissed the top.

"Pan, I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done for me."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes were glazed over as she held back her tears, "You take care Trunks." She stood up on her tiptoes; her lips were barely able to graze his cheek in a kiss.

"I will." Trunks turned back and mounted his horse. Goten held up a bag to him, which Trunks placed over his head, cinching it tight. He held his hands out for Goten to bind them together. Once that was done, he held onto the pommel as his horse was led away.

They traveled over half the night, Goten made many twists and turns and would often double back as a form of precaution. They finally stopped and Goten removed the binding on Trunks's hands. With his hands finally free, he was able to remove the bag from his head and breathe in the cool night air.

Goten pointed to the horizon, "That way is to West City. Two day ride." Goten mounted up his horse and pulled up alongside of Trunks. He held his hand out, which Trunks took and shook. "Be safe."

"Thank you for all the hospitality you have given me."

"I suggest you don't get hurt anymore; my sister might not be around to heal you next time."

Trunks smiled, "I don't plan on it."

"Then, good hunting, friend." And with the common phrase meant to bring good luck, the two departed.

-XoXoXoX-

Like Goten had said, West City was only a two day ride. Trunks rode his horse up to his father's manor and entered through the servant's entrance. One of the servants, Miri, scrambled at the sight of him and declared that she would go to drawl a bath after realizing her master's disheveled state. Trunks entered the bathhouse and undressed as he waited for the hot water to be drawn. Once the water was declared ready, he lowered himself into the pool, the warmth began to work its way into his tired muscles.

"Boy!" Trunks's father, Vegeta, yelled as he entered the bathhouse, "I had hoped that once you returned you would make your presence known instead of finding out from a servant that you were here." Vegeta eyed his son, noticing the fresh scars on his body.

"Sorry, Father," Trunks replied, "I will make myself presentable and then it can be formally announced."

Vegeta grunted in response, "There is a Small Council meeting tonight, I will inform them that you will be attending. Your mother and sister are in the City too, they will be thrilled that you have returned." And without another word, his father who was normally a man of very few words, turned and left the bathhouse.

Trunks combed his wet, lavender colored hair away from his face and bound it in a ponytail at the nap of his neck. Freshly dressed in clothes befitting his rank, he left for the council meeting, his feet still knowing the path to take. He received many bows from servants and noblemen, which he returned a nod in acknowledgement.

Everyone, but his father, rose upon his entrance to the Council Hall, and he gestured for them to take their seats.

The Lord of West City, Rickard, embraced Trunks and clamped him on the arms, "My boy, I am so glad you're back. Your Lord Grandfather was distraught to learn that his young prince had gone missing."

"I assure you that I am fine, thanks to the kindness that we often don't find nowadays." The elderly man nodded in agreement.

Vegeta spoke up, "The King has already been informed of his grandson's return. He has also sent word too that he needs him to join the ranks of Napa in the Western Quarter of Junco."

"So soon? The boy has only just returned," Rickard shook his head, his silver whiskers bouncing from the gesture.

"I am sure my son can handle it," Vegeta started at his son, his dark eyes impassive. Trunks returned the gesture. "He leaves in three days."

-XoXoXoX-

Trunks rolled his sore shoulder, the wound had healed a long time ago, but there were days when it ached. He had been in the Western Quarter for a year now. It seemed like the problems were only getting worse. The soil quality was horrible and many farmers were unable to grow a decent crop to horde away for winter time. He was currently sorting through a stack of applications a few of the residents had made for food subsidiaries to make it through the coming winter.

Trunks rubbed at his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. He was thankful that his grandfather, the King of Saiyana, had known the extent of his injuries and had assigned him an easy task, but this station was too mundane for him. He had already sent a letter to his father informing him that he was well enough to begin patrols or return to the battlefield. As long as it kept him from doing paperwork, he was happy. Right now, Trunks almost wished they would call him back to Court in Saiyana, he would happily attend the council meetings as it meant that he could shovel the paperwork off onto the scribes.

An idea suddenly pulled Trunks from his musings, "Nappa," he addressed the balding commander than often never left his side, "I'm going out to scout."

-XoXoXoX-

Snow was beginning to fall as Trunks made his way back to the camp. He hoped it would hold out on falling too thickly as he wanted a leisurely trip back. Trunks suddenly halted his horse; there was something on the horizon. He directed his mare into a thicket of woods, concealing themselves in the shadows. From a distance he could see a cloaked figure struggling to run through the ankle deep snow. By the way they moved, Trunks assuming that they were injured. He was about to approach the person when a horse and rider came barreling down upon them. The rider loosed an arrow and it embedded into the runner's shoulder. The person on foot screamed out in pain, their free arm reaching behind them to quickly break off the shaft.

"Give up!" The rider screamed as they dismounted and drew their sword. The rider kicked at the person, knocking the runner a few feet forward.

The runner quickly gathered themselves up, the hood of their cloak free from their face. Trunks could see that the runner was a woman as her long dark hair flowed in the wind.

"Do it!" She taunted, "Kill me like you did the others and be done with it."

The rider kicked her, she had brought her hand up to block it but the force of the blow was enough to knock her back into the snow. "I have my orders!" The man bellowed as he grabbed her by her hair. He pulled the rest of the arrow shaft out of her shoulder, eliciting a scream from the small woman. "But first I think I'll have my fun." The man sheathed his sword and grabbed at the woman's clothes. A loud_ rip_ echoed from the valley as he began to tear at her clothes.

Trunks don't know what overcame him but within an instant he had pulled his horse up, his sword already drawn and connected with the man's skull. Jumping off of his horse, Trunks sheathed his sword and approached the woman. He noticed there was a large amount of blood from her wound and there was a chance she could bleed out if left untreated, her silence let Trunks know that she was unconscious.

He knelt beside her and brushed her dark hair from her face. He sucked in a breath of air when realization of who the woman was hit him.

"Pan!"


	2. Chapter 2

For The Clan

Chapter Two

Gohan peered with weary eyes at his brother and sister. They sat in chairs that surrounded a great map of the land that also served as a table. Gohan had returned from a scouting mission and was currently tearing his teeth into the cooked flank of a boar, grease dribbled down his chin which he quickly wiped away. Pan sat in an adjacent chair, her dark locks falling from her loose braid as she leaned over the map and scratched notes on a piece of parchment. Every time Gohan looked at his little sister he was instantly brought back in time sixteen years ago. He remembered her dark eyes looking up at his fifteen year old self, her small body covered in blood and knowing that it wasn't hers, but their father's.

But the blood of an innocent child was still on his hands. A family had sacrificed their own daughter to take Pan's place the moment they knew the betrayal of the House of Vegeta. If it was not for loyalty from a few Houses, the House of Shenron would be merely a memory of the people.

House Vegeta had been sworn protectors for thousands of years to the House of Shenron, those who were descents of the Great Dragon Shenron that created the world. The betrayal stung deeply to Gohan because he had once considered this new King Vegeta as a grandfather when he was a small child. King Vegeta's son, now known as Prince Vegeta, had been an uncle to him and was his father's best friend. Gohan fought his inner demons every day; he strangled down the urge to march up to the gates of Saiyana, once known to him as Sharolin, and challenge the Mad King to a duel.

But that wasn't feasible: he would be shot down the moment a guard saw their banners flying.

He counted himself lucky that there were still many Houses in this land willing to rise up and protect him and his younger siblings. So far the House of Saiyana believed that he was alive and him only, which increased their chances for survival. Thankfully only a two people, Prince Vegeta and Lord Majin, knew the names of his siblings due to an old superstition where royal children's names weren't released until their twelfth birthday. House Majin had provided two small dark haired children to substitute for the bodies of Pan and Goten. It was rumored that the bodies of the substitute children were so horribly disfigured and that the Mad King used the skulls of the children for drinking cups. It was also rumored that the new Prince Vegeta had secretly cried when he had been presented with the bodies. However, rumors could be untrue and Gohan only believed the former rumor. What kind of man could watch his childhood friend die as he choked himself to death as he struggled to save his wife from being burned to death? And then allow the bodies to be dismantled and displayed? No, Gohan wouldn't believe that a man he once called "uncle" showed any empathy towards his family after he allowed his father to slaughter them for the desire of a crown. Prince Vegeta had to of known his father's plans and yet he didn't warn them or try to stop it. Prince Vegeta had signed his own death warrant in Gohan's book. However, since the downfall of their House, many "Kings" rose up and declared open rebellion against whom they now called the Mad King Vegeta, Slaughter of the Dragon. Some of these new "kings" were easily squashed, but one group of rebels known as the Order of the Brotherhood, had declared themselves protectors of the realm and fought to put the "rightful king" on the old Sharolin throne. Whom they deemed the "rightful king" was beyond Gohan's idea. Gohan had regretfully taken the title as king when his father died. The Order of the Viscar was made of Ancient Houses that swore to protect House Shenron once King Goku fell. They sought to replace Gohan as rightful king, but Gohan merely sought revenge for his murdered parents. He rolled an orange orb back and forth on the table, staring at the bright red four stars located inside of it; it had once been his Father, Goku's, prized possession. Family legend had it that if all of these dragon balls were gathered together, Shenron could be summoned, but what happened when he was summoned were the makings of a bedtime story.

"Pan," Gohan spoke.

Pan looked up from her writing; she had been making a list of all the medical stores they needed to replenish. They were currently hiding away in the village of the Bihar Mountains for the winter, the same village she had stayed at last year when she and Gohan had saved the mysterious stranger, one whom her mind kept straying back to…

"Yes, brother?" She sat her quill down, her word partially finished.

"Lord Uub was here a few days past," Pan nodded her head in agreement to this statement. She had seen the Lord of House Majin yesterday before he left. Although he was sworn to their House, he acted as a double agent and was under the good graces of the Mad King. She was pleased to see him when she came, but she knew when he did pay them a visit, he often brought ill tidings

"Lord Uub has reported that the Brotherhood's army is growing stronger; there is a chance that we could end up with a confrontation with them if they seek to use these mountains as a hideout," Goten stopped eating to flush his food down with a swig of wine. He pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth, interested in what his elder brother was about to say. Gohan continued, "Lord Uub has a manor across the Black Sea and he says that his house doctor has fallen ill and is quite old. He can guarantee you safe passage and can harbor you safely if you masquerade as a doctor. With your medical skills, I think it should be rather easy for you to."

"What are you saying, Gohan?" Goten jumped up from his seat, his chair tipping backwards and clanking loudly on the floor.

Gohan raised a hand up, his eyes never leaving Pan's. Hers were cool and collected no emotion showing. "I think that this will be safer. Right now the world doesn't know you two are still alive. If I knew you two were safe, I would gladly raise an army and reclaim our home. But right now, I will not risk either of you two dying. The bloodline needs to go on."

Goten grabbed his knife and slammed it into the table, causing Pan to flinch, "We've never been separated! Why now? I can understand you wanting us gone, but I can fight too."

"No, Goten," Pan interjected and crossed the room to put her hand on Goten's shoulder; she was always one that could calm him down. For once, just once, Gohan wanted his little sister to yell, to throw a fit like she use to when she didn't get her way as a child. He wanted her to scream at him that they couldn't be separated, but no. She had grown up, she understood what was happening, and knew the role she had to play. It was for the good of the House, for the good of the Clan of old Shenron. No matter what her orders were, she would take them and carry them out.

Goten was fuming as he glared daggers at the leader of their House, "We have never been separated, not once. So why now? I can fight just as well as you can."

Gohan sighed, and rubbed at the corner of his eyes, feeling the impending pressure of a headache. "Please Goten, it's only temporary. As soon as we know that Pan has made it safely, you are to join her at the Majin Manor at the Voyric Isles. Once I know you two are there, I should have the army already assembled. Hopefully it will be a quick battle. The Brotherhood has been giving House Saiyana enough problems and dwindling their numbers down – on both sides – and I believe that in at least a year's time, our force will be strong enough to take them both of them down in one final action." _I win this battle or I die – either way both of my siblings are safe, and I could rest in peace knowing that they are._

"Goten," Pan gave a reassuring squeeze to her brother's shoulder, "We have to do this. Everyone here in this village has sacrificed so much for us to keep us alive. The least we can do is to make sure that it was not in vain. We owe it to them." She looked at her brother with warm eyes, "Please, Goten."

Goten's facial features softened and his shoulders slumped dejectedly. He picked up the fallen chair and sat back down in it. "I don't like the idea but I'll go with it."

"Thank you," Gohan gave a slight smile. "Pan, you'll leave in a few days."

-XOXOX-

Pan watched the last of her belongings being loaded onto the caravan. She was traveling with a group of eleven other people, not enough to draw suspicion, but enough to look like a small family unit that was traveling to a safe location away from the war.

She was currently standing by her silver mare, a present that Gohan had given to her on her sixteenth birthday, she watched as Mister Yuma tied down a trunk full of dried herbs. Yuma was the oldest amongst them, and he was to masquerade as the family elder. In truth he really was the family elder as most of their travelling companions consisted of his children and grandchildren. The youngest child, whom was six years old, was Ameer; he had been the first child Pan had ever helped to deliver, and certainly not her last one.

Gohan walked up to her and wrapped her into a tight hug for he didn't know how long it would be till he would see her again, or if he would ever see her again. He felt the sting of tears threaten to break free at the corner of his eyes and as held on dearly to his baby sister.

After what seemed like an eternity he pulled her away and lifted her up easily onto her horse. He reached for the reins to hand to her but stopped.

"Pan…" Pan looked down at her brother quizzically, but he continued: "I would never, force you to do something that you absolutely didn't want to do, especially when it comes to matters of the heart, but I just want you to think on it; we owe a lot to Lord Uub," Pan nodded her head in agreement, they really did owe the man a lot and he was risking his own life to protect them, "But if something were to ever happen to me, I want you to consider marrying Uub. He has enough status and money to support you happily. He would be a proper husband for you and I know he would make you happy. You don't have to agree to anything right and I don't want you to feel pressured to marry him. He has never mentioned it to me and I just only recently thought…"

Pan smiled at Gohan, "I know: you're just trying to make sure I'm protected. I'll consider it." The thought of marrying Uub was rather daunting, especially when her mind was often wandering back to the lavender haired stranger. Yuma gave the whistle that everyone was ready to depart. Goten had approached the two of them and Pan leaned down from her horse to give him a hug and a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

"Take care, Pan," Goten cupped his sister's cheek and kissed it once more, he too was fighting back the tears.

"I will," She reassured them. The caravan was moving and she steered her mare to fall in line behind them.

Gohan and Goten watched their sister leave. Goten hoped she arrived Voyric Isles quickly so that he may join her soon. There was only a five year age difference between the two and they had been inseparable since she had been born. There were still nights when there were violent storms that she would often sneak into her brother's room for extra protection for he was always one to keep her demons at bay.

However, Gohan felt that it was the last time he would ever see his beloved little sister again. Little did he know that in a few weeks' time he would experience the worst rage of his life when he received word that Pan's caravan had been attacked and she was missing…

-XOXOX-

Pan pulled her furs tighter around her body. They were all currently huddled down in a grove of trees as a winter storm had impeded their movement. They were only two weeks away from Port Rylen. They knew that Lord Uub's boat would wait for them till they arrived and after that it would be a three week sail to Voyric Isles that is if the sea weather was fair.

Janora, Pan's body double, approached her Princess and draped another fur over her when she noticed the small girl shivering. "My lady, you need to rest. Hana and Roi have the first watch. Yuma read the bones in the fire and he believes that the storm will break and we can travel tomorrow."

Snuggling deeper into the furs till the hairs tickled her nose, Pan allowed herself to slip into sleep as Janora tucked a pillow behind her princess's head.

Pan jumped suddenly as she felt her body pressed into the ground as a strong hand pressed against her mouth. The sudden brightness of the fire blinded her vision and smoke clouded her eyes, making it impossible for her to see what was going on. She noticed that the wind was no longer harsh against her cheeks, meaning the storm had finally passed, but something wasn't right. Her ears were barely registering the sound of gruff tones and muffled screams as she was pulled from her slumber.

Someone grabbed her roughly by the base of her neck, their fingers tangling into her hair as she was dragged up to her feet from her slumbering position and pushed down onto her knees. Her eyes had finally adjusted and what she saw instantly made tears swell at the corner of her eyes: the decapitated heads of Hana and Roi lay at the fire. Rama had apparently heard the scuffle and suffered a belly wound because of it. Yuma was being held down onto the ground, his face badly bruised and bleeding from a wound while his captor held a sword above him. Yuma looked up at his princess with sorrowful eyes and mouthed silent words of apology.

"No men here that fit the description, but there are two women though," one of their captors spoke to who was apparently their leader. Pan's eyes scanned the group of thirteen men; all wore red bands of cloth tied around their right biceps: they were members of the Brotherhood.

"Bring them." Suddenly Pan and Janora were pulled to the center, closer to the fire. Janora wept and a few small audible sobs escaped her lips.

The man whom Pan assumed to be the leader stepped forward, and lit a torch in the fire. His dark green eyes gleamed in the firelight as he watched the fire come to life as it lapped at the fuel on the cloth. He approached Janora and swept his brown locks away from his face. He glanced over at Pan and licked his lips and sneered, "A true dragon won't burn."

He brushed the torch close to Janora's face – Pan sucked in a breath of air: He was going to burn her!

The flames inched closer to Janora, everyone could smell her hair singeing as she cried openly now. Body double or not, Pan wasn't about to watch her friend die.

"STOP!"

The man halted his torment on Janora and approached Pan; he towered over her as he thrust the torch towards her face. Pan didn't flinch, the fire felt like a butterfly landing on her skin, barely casing a tickling sensation to her.

The leader of the bandits smiled at her, obviously satisfied with his discovery. He tossed the torch to the ground and grabbed Pan by her hair forcing her to stand as he pulled her head slightly back. "Seems we have found the murdered Princess," He glanced over at one of his comrades to give a command, "Kill them all."

The sound of blades ringing and cries filled the air. Tears stung Pan's cheeks as the man forced her to look at him, it was no or never.

Inhaling, Pan sucked in as much air as she could before expelling a fireball against the man's face. The effect worked, he immediately released his hold on Pan and clutched at his face. Pan quickly turned and lurched forward to knock into Janora's captor. The man stumbled and let out a sharp cry as his knee connected with the rocky ground. Yuma, seeing that his Princess was fighting back used all his power to free himself from his imprisoner and kicked himself free. Others were beginning to fight back as well and soon they were equal in strength.

However, they weren't as strong as they hoped to believe. The leader of the group had recovered. He staggered over to where Pan was helping to untangle a child from the grasp of one of his men. He grabbed her roughly and threw her to the ground and heard a _thunk_ as her head connected with a large rock on the ground.

Pan's head rang, everything sounded distantly away. She vaguely could feel someone grabbing at her, her hands desperately tried to swat them away. Her world was spinning and she felt like she was watching everything in slow motion. From her clouded vision she could see Yuma screaming at her, his voice urging her to _run_, _run, Princess, SAVE YOURSELF_. Swords flashed in the firelight and the copper smell of blood was thick in the air. A large man towered above her and she shot a blast of fire from her palm but her unsteady state made the gust of flame shoot past his shoulder missing her target. Pan swept her feet out, catching the man off guard and tripping him. She rolled over, her world tilting sideways and clenching her cloak to her throat; she stumbled to her feet and took off running into the woods.

The soft white snow tripped her as she stumbled, but she urged herself to run harder, run faster, push through it. She had to get away. She could hear the distant thump of a horse's hooves in powdered snow. She zigged through the trees, her heart pounded in her chest, and she gasped for air as she felt a running stitch in her side.

Pan lost track of how long she had ran, it seemed like hours, but she knew it to be minutes. Her head pounded and when she reached her fingers up to touch her temple, she could see the metallic red of blood reflect upon long elegant fingers in the moonlight.

Suddenly she realized that she was in a clearing. This wasn't good! She needed the cover of the forest. Looking ahead she could see that it was at least a mile stretch until she would be in the foods again. Summoning up the last bit of her energy, she bolted, her feet trying desperately to bound over the snow.

Searing pain burned in her shoulder as she heard the audible _twang_ of an arrow. Pan stumbled, her knees connecting abruptly with the hard frozen ground. It felt as if her kneecap had shattered as she fought to stand back up and face the mounted man.

"Give up!" The rider screamed as he dismounted and drew his sword. The leader of the Brotherhood kicked out at her with his heavily booted foot. She felt her chest sink in and knew he had broken a rib.

Pan coughed, blood spurting out of her mouth. She wiped at it and glared up at the man, fire in her eyes. "Do it!" She challenged him, "Kill me like you did the others and be done with it!"

The man smiled as he stepped closer to her and knocked her into the ground again. He wasn't done though as he gathered her by collar of her clothes and held her up. The hood of her cloak fell back and her long dark hair whipped around wildly in the wind.

"I have my orders!" The man bellowed as he grabbed Pan by her hair. He pulled the rest of the arrow shaft out of her shoulder, causing Pan to scream in pain. He slapped her roughly with his armored fist, her head rang once again. "But first I think I'll have my fun." Pan heard the man sheath his sword and felt him hastily rip away the front of her clothing as she slipped into unconsciousness.

"_This is how I die_," Pan thought as tears freely ran.


	3. Chapter 3

For The Clan

Chapter Three

Trunks held onto Pan as he steered his horse in a wide sweeping arc around the river. After he had rescued her, he realized that he couldn't take her back to an army camp without questions arising. The most important one being who the girl was. When Trunks was rescued by her last winter, he had assumed she was part of the Brotherhood, but the actions that transpired not an hour ago led him to believe she was from a different faction. But like his father use to say that there "is a king in every corner," he would have to take precautions to hide her from his army because she obviously didn't fight on his side.

His best bet at keeping her safe was to take her out of the Western Quarter and to his family's manor in Junco. He had backtracked and led his horse across the water in an effort to make it seem as if he had gotten slightly lost before continuing onto the West Road towards Junco. By the position of the moon, it was nearing the midnight hour and he was not too far from the manor. From there he could send word by hawk to Nappa and give him command till he returned.

Trunks touched his strong fingers to Pan's neck, feeling for a faint pulse. Rain was starting to trickle down from the sky and Trunks knew that he would need to get to his manor soon as rain during the winter was never a good sign. Many of the soldiers in his camp that were farmers before the war had warned their commanders that a blizzard was upon them soon. As the frozen drops splashed against his cheek, he knew them to be right. Blizzards in this area were often awful.

Trunks turned his heals into the sides of his steed, urging him gently along the bank. They would have to move fast to avoid the worst part of the storm.

-XOXOX-

It was well past the hour of the boar when Trunks arrived at his manor. He ushered his horse into the stables and collected the still breathing Pan in his arms. The stable boy, Toki, feeling the rush from the cold air as the stable door was opened, jumped to his feet and began to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Master Trunks!" the lad of fourteen exclaimed, "We weren't expecting you."

Trunks nodded towards his horse, "See to Set, please." The boy quickly sat to work taking care of the travel worn horse, only casting a slight glance towards the bleeding woman.

Trunks entered into the foyer of his family's manor, one of the manservants, Rashid was already up. The elderly servant glanced at the woman in his master's arms, "I will send for Chryssa, first thing in the morning." Rashid was referring to the village healer.

"Don't bother," Trunks remarked, "The blizzard will have covered everything tomorrow, she won't be able to make it. Just bring me fresh linens, boiling water, and any kind of medicinal herb we have here." Rashid nodded in understanding and disappeared down one of the many halls to retrieve the requested items.

Trunks entered one of the guest rooms and laid Pan down upon the mattress. He shrugged off his travel worn cloak and removed his sword belt, throwing the items unceremoniously in the corner of the room. He pulled a thong out of his pocket and tied back his long lavender hair into a loose ponytail, the ends of his hair reaching past his shoulders.

With strong callused fingers he quickly began to unclasp Pan's cloak from around her. Seeing no way to undo her travel tunic and pants, he pulled his dagger and cut it away from her shoulder and rolled her gently to her side so that he could better examine the arrow wound. Grabbing the comforter, he quickly covered her bare shoulder when he heard the door open.

"Trunks, what is going on?"

Trunks jumped at the sudden sound of his sister's voice. He spun around to face her, "What are you doing here?"

Bulla had her long blue hair pulled back in a loose braid, strands had come loose and it was obvious that she had been sleeping moments ago. She wrapped her yellow robe around her night gown, shivering from the slight chill of the room. "Father sent me here; I'll inform you later. Who is the woman?" Her blue eyes gestured towards Pan's limp figure.

"She was the woman that saved me a year ago. I found her outside of my camp being attacked by the Brotherhood."

Rashid entered and placed the supplies by the bed, "Sir, I'm unskilled with medicine but I boiled the water with fresh garlic, from my understanding is that it helps to cleanse the wounds."

Trunks waved at the manservant, "Thank you, Rashid. I know some field medicine; I hope what little I can do will help. You are dismissed; I will call for you if I need anything."

Rashid bowed deeply and left the room but lingered outside in the hall in case his young master was in need of anything else.

Trunks grabbed one of the clean linens that had been boiled in the water and began to scrub as gently as he could at the crusted blood from the wound. Bulla came around the opposite side of the bed and smoothed away the stray hairs from the woman's face. Her tan hand touched the raven haired beauty's fair skin, making note of the dried blood from her head, and noticed that it was warm, "She's burning up."

"I've been riding with her for the past few hours, she will probably have to fight off an infection," Trunks commented as he grabbed a fresh linen and began to clean the inside of the wound as much as possible as he felt for any remains of the arrow head that might still be embedded. Thankfully, he felt none; it was a clean wound which was a good sign. He grabbed some salve and with fresh linen, saturated it inside of the foul smelling gel. He gently poked the cloth inside of the wound before removing it. He looked up to see Bulla handing him a needle with horsehair tied upon it. He accepted it and began to quickly work on sewing the skin back together. It was a crude job, but at least he had stopped the flow of blood. Trunks discarded the needle and began to apply more salve to the outside of the wound and made secured a compress to the shoulder by wrapping strips of linen around her body as a sling.

"Her leg is broken, at the knee," Bulla indicted.

Rashid had entered the room, carrying a hot cup of tea and placed the tray down, "This tea should reduce the fever, but we will need to set her up enough to swallow it."

"Rashid, you've had to set broken legs haven't you?" Trunks asked.

The elderly man nodded, "Yes, in animals, and once for a small lad many years ago back when your father was young."

"Her leg is broken, we need to set it."

The elder man rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, "Mistress, you will need to brace her upper body. Even though she is unconscious, she might lurch. Best to sit that bowl near her head too," He gestured towards the ceramic bowl which Bulla took and laid it gently under Pan's cheek. "Master Trunks, brace her knee three inches from the bend. We have to place her leg at the right angle before we set the bone. If we do it incorrectly, we could shatter it."

They moved into their positions: Bulla stood to Pan's right and held her down at the waist. Trunks supported the area that Rashid had told him to hold, keeping a firm grip and moving the limb ever so slightly per Rashid's orders to ensure that they set the bone correctly.

Rashid was holding below the broken bone, his arthritic hands still had some strength to them, "On the count of three," He rolled his thumb into position feeling the tibia, it was a clean break at least, which would ensure her chance to walk again. "One…" They all held their breaths, "Two…" Trunks tightened his grip slightly, "Three." Bulla leaned her body further across Pan as she felt the smaller woman jump at the sudden pain. A loud _pop_ resounded in the room as the tibia slipped back into place with the femur.

The sudden unexpected pain caused Pan to groan loudly as she vomited. Bulla wiped her mouth with a wet cloth and glanced at Rashid. He shook his head, "'Tis normal when you set bones. I don't know why it is but most animals and humans will vomit when it happens." With deft fingers, Trunks cut away Pan's brown pants from below the knee and wrapped a bandage tightly around the repaired limb for support.

"I'll go see what we have in the way of a brace, she will need to keep that limb straight," Rashid bowed to his employers and left the room to find the needed supplies.

"Now, who is she, again?" Bulla asked quietly even though she heard Rashid's retreating footsteps.

Trunks had taken another washcloth and had begun to sponge away at the dried blood from Pan's temples, smoothing her raven hair away from her face as he did so. "She is the reason why I'm alive."

"From the ambush on the Goldroad?"

Trunks shook his head in affirmation, "Yes. She and her brother were the ones that found me and tended to my wounds. I don't know why, call it Fate, but I stumbled upon her being attacked by the Brotherhood about seven miles from my camp. From what the man said and his actions for wanting her alive, give me reason to think that the Brotherhood wants her for something."

"Or she could have been a member of their clan trying to escape," Bulla suggested.

"No, I know she's not. From living with her for that short time in the mountains I think there is something more to her clan," Trunks fists clenched the washcloth tightly, soft patters of water hit the floor. Bulla took notice of her older brother's sudden tenseness and protectiveness. Trunks continued, "Whatever it is they want with her, I swear they will not get it. We will keep her safe here."

Bulla's eyes narrowed at her brother's vow and nodded in acceptance. "I will clean her up; it is no place for a man to see a lady naked regardless of what state of health she is in. Send one of my handmaidens up with a night shift; I'm sure I can get her into something a little cleaner. You better send a hawk to Nappa and Father before this winter storm gets worse."

Trunks sighed and thanked his sister. He stopped at the door for one last look at the woman he hoped would recover before leaving to make the necessary arrangements for his absence.

-XOXOX-

Pan let out a heavy sigh as she slowly came to consciousness; her ribs slightly ached from the mild exertion. She felt something wet on her forehead, and with trembling fingers, pulled off the wet cloth. She eyed the strange white material, the colors contrasted with her pale skin.

"Oh, try not to move too much," A woman's voice spoke from Pan's right. Pan turned to see whom the voice belonged to; her eyes were desperately trying to adjust to the sudden amount of use.

A blue haired woman appeared in Pan's range of sight, her large blue eyes blinked at the woman in her care.

"How do you feel?"

Pan didn't know how to answer that. She felt numb all over, probably from the lack of movement. "How long have I been out for?" Her voice came out in a harsh rasp.

"A little less than two weeks."

Pan propped herself up onto her elbows in an effort to try to slide herself up into a sitting position. Bulla quickly helped the raven haired woman to sit up against the headboard and propped pillows around her, noticing that the woman winched from the movement.

Pan had felt a drag on the sheets, as if her leg was being caught on something when she moved. In a tentative gesture, she flexed her toes, wincing sharply at the throbbing pain.

"Your knee was broken," Bulla indicated as she poured a cup of tea. "It's been set, but it needs time to heal."

Pan accepted a cup of tea from Bulla with her left hand, noticing that her right arm was bound tightly to her body. She sniffed at the hot liquid; the faint aroma of dorium root milk had been seeped with the tea leaves. She took a small sip and allowed the beverage to slide down her throat.

"Oh!" Bulla exclaimed suddenly causing Pan to jump slightly, "My name is Bulla."

"Thank you, Bulla, for your kindness and taking care of me. My name is Pan."

Bulla smiled at the woman, her blue eyes twinkling, "I know."

Pan quirked an eyebrow to quickly mask the flash of terror that crossed over her onyx colored eyes. "How did you know?"

Pearly whites flashed again at Pan, "My brother, Trunks, saved you on the road. He brought you back to our home."

Pan's thoughts began to race and she suddenly felt as if she was having an out of body experience. The tea cup slipped through her fingers, it fell onto her lap, the hot liquid spilling across her but she gave it no mind.

Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes, "Was there anyone else he brought back?"

Bulla quickly removed the soaked blankets from Pan in fear that the tea could scald her. Seeing that Pan was suffering no ill effects from it, she took the woman's good hand into hers and traced circles with her hand on the back of Pan's in a soothing gesture. Her blue eyes locked towards Pan's black ones. "I'm sorry, Pan. He just brought you back. Trunks made no mention of anyone else except for the man that attacked you."

The flood gates opened as Pan's mind began to recall every one of her traveling companions' faces for the past few weeks. Her people, one's that had vowed to protect her when she should have saved them. She was the one that they looked up to for guidance and leadership in times of need. She hated herself for her weakness and her failures.

Bulla pulled the frail woman into a hug and patted her back, "I'm so sorry." She rocked Pan gently in an effort to soothe her even though she knew she could offer no great deal of comfort.

They stayed this way for a few moments before Pan composed herself. She rubbed her eyes with her left hand, "I apologize for that: it was not becoming for me to cry in front of someone I just met."

Bulla offered Pan a kind smile, "You're hurting, Pan. I don't know who you lost out there, but still the loss is great to you."

Pan smiled down at her lap and focused on her hand in an effort to distract herself, "Is Trunks here?"

"No," Bulla replied, "He went out hunting yesterday. He should return later tonight, if not tomorrow. The storm stopped a few days ago but the skies are darkening again. Trunks thought it best to try to procure some fresh meat." She noticed Pan's sudden expression of worry at the mention of a storm. "Don't worry though: we have a grove not too far from here that gets baited. Deer love it and often come to hide there during the winter months. I'm sure Trunks is fine."

Bulla hummed, "Oh that reminds me..." She stood up and reached for something behind Pan. She laid a wooden crutch across Pan's lap. Pan immediately noticed the craftsmanship: the crutch had been hand carved, which was apparent from the amount of detail of carved flowers that ran up the sides and the auxiliary support seemed as if it was made for her. Pan's fingers traced the patterns, noticing the array of blossoms.

"It's beautiful."

"Trunks may not look like someone that enjoys it, but carving is his hobby," Bulla stated. "He wanted to make sure you had something to get around on once you woke up."

Pan smiled to herself as she remembered the handsome lavender haired man. "I will thank him properly upon his return then."

Bulla sat down in her chair next to her bed and smoothed her forgotten needlework out and picked a few pieces of lint from the fabric.

"Bulla?" Bulla returned her attention back to Pan, "Is there a way that I could bathe?"

Bulla thought for moment, "Hmm, only if you are up to it. We have plumbing here that is heated by an outdoor furnace, so the water won't be freezing for you. Are you sure that's something you want to do?"

Pan nodded, "Very much so. I hate to ask for assistance or to impose on you, but I think I would feel much better. Plus the dorium root has dulled everything for now; it would be best to attempt it before it numbs my senses further and causes me to sleep."

Bulla agreed that they could try but if at any moment Pan felt too tired or sore, to let her know and they would stop. Pan agreed with the terms and Bulla left to call upon a few of her handmaidens to assist with the bathing and one to change the linens in Pan's room.

-XOXOX-

Pan wobbled slightly with the crutch as she lowered herself back down to her fresh bed. She felt much better having removed the sweat and grime from her body and she could only imagine that she must have smelled better too.

Gingerly, she reached behind her shoulder to feel the wound. "I could dress it for you if you would like me too," Bulla commented as she sat down a slave and some linen.

Pan shook her head no, "It needs to be open to air for a while. You did a wonderful job changing the dressing but the skin has closed. There's no need for it now." However, Pan did know that she would need to favor that arm because she risked pulling the freshly healed muscle. Using her good arm, Pan grasped her broken knee under the new brace and pulled her leg up into bed before swinging her good leg in. Satisfied with her accomplishment she leaned back into the pillows.

Bulla pulled a blanket over her new friend's legs and tucked them securely around her lap. "Rest up some Pan. I'll bring some dinner to you soon."

Pan hummed back in response as she felt her eyes slowly close…

Pan's nose brought her back to reality from her nap. The faint coppery, metallic smell of blood tickled her nose. It wasn't human blood, but that of an animal, which could only mean one thing:

Pan's door opened and a large figure stepped into the room. His lavender hair reflected off the firelight in her room.

Trunks's eyes widened at the realization that his past savior had awakened from her slumber. Pan propped herself up on her elbows as Trunks knelt down next to her bed.

Cerulean blue eyes reflected many emotions in the firelight: ones of relief, desire, compassion, friendship, and safety.

"You're awake," Trunks commented, his voice soft. He had obviously had returned a while ago as he was wearing clothes that would not of been heavy enough for hunting. Although he had rinsed up before coming to her room, Pan knew he had been successful in his hunt as she could smell the lingering scent of deer blood on her rescuer.

Pan opened her mouth to speak her thanks to Trunks, but was stopped suddenly when he gathered her face in his strong hands and placed a gentle, soul awakening kiss upon her lips. Onyx eyes widened slightly before closing in acceptance to this strange feeling as a cloud of security and love enveloped her.


End file.
